


Not a clotpole

by dk323



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-12
Updated: 2010-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-06 05:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dk323/pseuds/dk323
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin doesn’t know what has overcome Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not a clotpole

**Title:** Not a clotpole (1/2)  
**Author:** dk323   
**Rating: **PG   
**Characters/Pairings: **Merlin, Arthur, Morgana    
**Spoilers:   
**Merlin ~ Episode 2x01   
**Disclaimer: **The show Merlin is property of the BBC. No money being made.   
**Summary:** Merlin doesn’t know what has overcome Arthur.

A week after the Cedric incident, Merlin entered Arthur’s chambers with his lunch. Arthur was seated at the table, looking up as Merlin came in.

 

And then, Arthur gave him this sort of searching look like he was trying to find something on Merlin’s face.

 

“Do I have something on my face?” Merlin asked carefully as he set down the tray with the prince’s lunch.

 

Arthur shook his head and his gaze shifted to the food before him. “No, of course not. Be sure to polish my armour, would you? The tournament is tomorrow--”

 

Merlin sighed and nodded. “All right. Is that all, Arthur?”

 

Arthur appeared to be considering something for a moment before he asked, “Merlin?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Remember when I sent you to the dungeons after you attacked Cedric?”

 

Merlin’s expression darkened. He really didn’t want to be reminded of that incident with Cedric. Or, really, it had been Cornelius Sigan possessing the man, but it did not matter much in the end.

 

The sting of Arthur’s disbelief in his words still bothered him no matter the peculiar developments lately in Arthur’s behavior toward him. Merlin noticed that since the incident with Cedric, Arthur was taking it easy on him – being more patient and tolerant of him than even before the Questing Beast incident. Merlin didn’t know what had overcome the prince. Merlin figured at first that it was Arthur’s way of apologizing for his treatment of him a week ago.

 

But then – well, Merlin really didn’t want to know what Arthur’s game was, but the prince had suddenly developed a penchant at discussing magic in Merlin’s presence in wake of the Cedric incident.

 

Merlin thought nothing of it because Arthur wasn’t condemning magic necessarily, just contemplating what could be done with such gifts. And anyway, Merlin didn’t see anything in the prince’s countenance that would give him a reason for alarm. So all Merlin could conclude was that this was all just innocent talk, just to fill the silence.

 

Since killing Nimueh, Merlin felt less like himself in some respects. He didn’t know what to do anymore. Holding the power of life and death in his hands, the very balance of it, had changed him. In what way, Merlin himself wasn’t sure. Yet.

 

He had tried not to think on it any further. Instead, he had focused on doing his job. And while doing that, Merlin had distanced himself from Arthur. He didn’t even recognize he was doing it, so wrapped up in his thoughts, his uncertainty about what lay ahead of him. Of what sort of person he would become and what that would mean.

 

Arthur had given him rather odd, piercing looks after Merlin had returned from the Isle of the Blessed. But then the prince’s interest tapered off after a few days. Merlin was too preoccupied to notice the shift anyway.

 

“Merlin, did you hear me?” Arthur’s voice shook him out of his thoughts.

 

Merlin nodded. “Yes, about being in the dungeons? What do you want to know? That was a week ago…” Merlin reminded him, feeling puzzled as to why Arthur chose to bring this up days later.

 

Arthur took a drink from his goblet and then set it down. “Yes, I know,” He agreed casually as if he usually brought up week-old matters on a whim. “The bars of your cell – they were blasted outwards. Strange, don’t you think?”

 

Merlin tried his best not to appear startled or give any indication that this observation affected him.

 

“Yes, Arthur. I agree,” Merlin quickly replied.

 

“Huh,” Arthur said, looking thoughtful for a long moment.

 

Then Arthur looked up again at Merlin. Merlin saw how Arthur’s eyes moved up and down his body as if Arthur was surveying an intriguing specimen.

 

“Merlin, go back to the kitchens. Ask them for another plate of food for me.”

 

Merlin stared at him, shocked. “What?” He managed to breathe out.

 

“I’m feeling hungry. Go on,” Arthur said, waving his hand to dismiss him.

 

“All right,” Merlin could only say.

 

He left Arthur’s chambers, wondering what in the world that was about. Arthur had never made such a request before.

 

When Merlin came back with Arthur’s requested second serving, the prince directed him to take a seat at the table.

 

Merlin did as he was told and set the plate on the table as well. He looked at Arthur who stared right back at him.

 

Then he said, “You don’t look well, Merlin. You’re so thin; I fear a strong wind will blow you away. Eat,” The last word was an order.

 

“But it’s _your_ food…” Merlin pointed out, feeling puzzled.

 

“Merlin, I can’t have a servant who isn’t doing their job properly – not that you _ever _do your job properly -- because they aren’t taking care of themselves. And I most certainly can’t have others seeing my manservant looking ill. You need meat on your bones. Eat,” Arthur insisted, moving the second plate closer to Merlin.

 

Merlin sighed and decided to just follow Arthur’s order. He didn’t feel like arguing and really, this was one order he didn’t mind following at all. He hadn’t eaten lunch yet, and he could admit that he was feeling hungry.

 

“And Merlin?”

 

“Yes, Arthur?”

 

“Eat everything on that plate.”

 

Merlin nodded and started eating a piece of bread.

 

They ate in companionable silence thereafter, only broken by Arthur bringing up the topic of magic again.

 

~ * ~

 

A week later:

 

“THAT’S IT!” Merlin exclaimed. He just managed to keep a grip on the plate he was carrying despite nearly tripping over a bowl on the floor.

 

He glared at Arthur who appeared not to be concerned with Merlin’s outburst.

 

“It’s not my fault you’re such a klutz,” Arthur remarked.

 

“You! That’s the fifth time you’ve tried to trip me today! What is this?! I know you’re doing this-- don’t think I’m an idiot!”

 

Arthur shrugged, waving his hand carelessly. “Oh, I think you’re very much an idiot. I don’t know what you’re on about. Why would I be trying to trip you?”

 

Merlin groaned. Arthur was right. He hadn’t the faintest clue as to what reason the prince had to do that to him. Other than a rather stupid prank. He wouldn’t put it past Arthur, the royal prat.

 

Then Merlin grinned, realizing what he _could pin_ on Arthur. “Then how do you explain you moving your goblet, still full of drink, so close to the edge of the table that it would spill? And then when it did spill, I’d have to clean it up! Well?” Merlin gave him an expectant look.

 

“You’re seeing things.” Arthur answered, leaning back in his fur-throw chair.

 

“I’m _what_?” Merlin spluttered, feeling incredibly confused.

 

How could Arthur just say that? This was ridiculous!

 

“You’re seeing things. Clearly, you’re imagining a situation that hasn’t happened. Maybe you’re coming down with something.”

 

Merlin narrowed his eyes. He stared at Arthur. Did he hear that right? Had Arthur just told him that he was hallucinating? Gone mad?

 

Arthur nodded at the seat across from him. “Dine with me. Have you had dinner yet?”

 

“I was planning to have it with Gaius,” Merlin told him, barely managing a civil tone.

 

“Well, now you’re having it with me. Take a seat. There’s more than enough here for the both of us.”

 

Merlin sat down reluctantly and started tucking into his dinner.

 

Almost half an hour passed before Merlin looked up at Arthur -- cutting into his opinion on a certain knight or other during training that day -- and he asked, realization dawning on him, “You haven’t brought up magic once today. After you’ve been on about it for the last two weeks.”

 

Arthur stroked his chin in thought. “I guess you’re right. I suppose I’ve exhausted the topic. A person can’t talk about magic all the time.”

 

“Arthur--” Merlin started, feeling uncertain.

 

“Yes?” Arthur asked, an inexplicable look in his eyes.

 

Merlin shook his head. Arthur was acting weird and Merlin was sure it would drive him insane trying to get to the bottom of it.

 

“Nothing,” Merlin said with a sigh.

 

Merlin had to clean up the spill from two fallen goblets that evening. Arthur, irritatingly, denied he had anything to do with it.

 

He wondered if Arthur really thought Merlin was blind because there was no way, _no way_ that the prince had any grounds for denial.

 

~ * ~

 

The week wore on and Merlin was now absolutely certain that he wasn’t “seeing things” as Arthur put it.

 

Arthur continued to knock things -- not just goblets anymore but plates, vases, bowls – off of his table and strategically place objects so that Merlin would trip over them while carrying something heavy.

 

What Merlin found curious was that Arthur only did these things in his chambers, not anywhere else in the castle. Merlin supposed he should be grateful for this as he would rather not have others see him make an idiot of himself tripping over things.

 

But then that didn’t quite explain the “knocking things off of tables.” If Arthur really wanted to amuse himself at Merlin’s expense, then why didn’t Arthur do that outside of his chambers?

 

Merlin really wouldn’t have minded. It was Arthur who was doing it after all, so he would only be embarrassing himself.

 

Ah, now he had figured it out. Of course, the clotpole of a prince didn’t want to risk his reputation by doing something as silly and unbefitting as knocking items off high surfaces for no good reason.

 

But then again, Arthur could just as easily blame the mishap on Merlin and everyone would believe the prince. After all, a prince’s word against a servant’s – there was no contest.

 

Either way, Arthur was being _a royal prat.  
_

~ * ~ 

Merlin knocked on the door to Morgana’s chambers. He had found out from another servant that Gwen was attending her there. And he really needed to talk to her about the “Arthur is being more of a prat than usual” situation.

 

“Come in,” He heard Morgana’s voice from inside of the room.

 

Merlin entered the room. “Hello, Morgana. Uh, I was looking for Gwen… is she not here?”

 

“You just missed her. Why did you need to see her?”

 

Morgana waved her hand at a chair suggesting Merlin should take a seat.

 

He did and then he explained, “I needed to talk to her about Arthur. Complain about him, more like it.”

 

Morgana gave him an interested look. “Really? What has he done now?”

 

And so Merlin told her about Arthur intentionally trying to trip him, about him knocking over goblets so that their contents would spill and it would fall to Merlin to clean it up…

 

Merlin was about to say something else, but he cut himself off.

 

Morgana caught his hesitance though. “What else is it?”

 

“Nothing. I don’t think it means anything.”

 

Morgana sat down in another chair across from him. “Well, Arthur is certainly acting strangely. I’m sure he has a reason for it, but I can’t deny he is, at times, rather annoying and a bit of a brat more often than not.”

 

Merlin agreed.

 

“I know that my dreams aren’t a fluke, Merlin. I figured it out,” Morgana said suddenly.

 

Merlin’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

 

“Oh, honestly. Don’t look so surprised. I’m smarter than you think. And I know about your magic too. So whatever you need to tell me, you can.”

 

Merlin stared at her. “Uh,” he managed to say. He was finding it hard to form words. “How did you know about me?”

 

“I have eyes, you see. I was watching you.”

 

“But if that were the case, then everyone would know!” He said firmly, refusing to believe that he’d be so easily found out. “And they don’t – no one has suspected a thing.”

 

Morgana tried to reassure him. “Let me rephrase that – I knew what I was looking out for. Others just don’t know what they should be watching for or, for that matter, that they should be observing you more carefully at all.”

 

He nodded mutely, still uncertain how to take this abrupt revelation from Morgana. “Right, uh…well,” Merlin started again. “It’s just that a few weeks ago, Arthur, out of nowhere, started talking about magic to me. Not condemning it as his father is likely to do, just considering the possibilities of magic. But then, the same day he started tripping me and knocking objects off of his table, Arthur stopped all together. Just like that,” Merlin snapped his fingers to emphasize his point.

 

Morgana nodded. “He just stopped bringing up that topic?”

 

“Yes! I don’t understand. He’s just acting so – Arthur’s more infuriating than usual. I don’t know what point he’s trying to make by driving me insane. And he accused me of hallucinating! That, _of course_, he wasn’t the one knocking goblets off of the table! But I’m _not blind_.”

 

Morgana placed her hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I’m sure Arthur will come around. There must be something he’s doing right…”

 

Merlin rubbed the back of his head, remembering something. “Well, he seems to be unusually concerned about my health. He makes sure I always eat with him so that he could see me eat everything off my plate. It’s disconcerting.”

 

Morgana smiled. “There you have it. It’s not all bad.”

 

“Do you have any idea what could be the cause?” Merlin asked her, looking at her hopefully.

 

Morgana shook her head, but Merlin was positive he saw a smug, knowing look on her face for a fleeting moment.

 

He left Morgana’s chambers, feeling more confused than ever.

 

Well, at least Morgana knew his secret, he told himself.

 

That thought kept him going until the next day when he just restrained himself from turning Arthur into a toad.  
   
~ * ~


	2. Not a clotpole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin doesn’t know what has overcome Arthur.

**Title: **Not a clotpole (2/2)  
**Author:** dk323  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters/Pairings: **Merlin, Arthur, Morgana, Gwen  
**Spoilers: **Merlin ~ Episode 2x01  
**Disclaimer: **The show Merlin is property of the BBC. No money is being made.  
**Summary:** Merlin doesn’t know what has overcome Arthur.  
**Part 2:** Arthur gets frustrated by others, Merlin is a hero and has to deal with a problem, and Arthur and Merlin end up in the water…

 

 

“Morgana,” Arthur began. The mid-afternoon sun cast a dark gold hue through the windows. Arthur had let Merlin go after lunch, giving him an impromptu break as he hadn’t assigned any tasks for him to complete. His manservant was noticeably more distracted that day and Arthur thought it would be best not to agitate him further.

 

Arthur sometimes wondered how he had gotten to this point – making such allowances for a servant, but Merlin was different. The normal rules just didn’t apply to him. And he could not miss the look of sheer gratitude crossing Merlin’s features when he had made his announcement.

 

The two of them were in Arthur’s chambers, Arthur having called Morgana to his rooms because he needed to speak to her. So now she was here seated at his table with an expectant look on her face. Arthur chose to remain standing.

 

“Yes, Arthur?” Morgana replied, eyes following him as he paced the room.

 

He stopped to face her, hands placed firmly on the table. “Did Merlin tell you anything?”

 

Morgana looked at him questioningly. “Tell me about what? I don’t know what you’re asking.”

 

“Listen, Morgana, I’m not an idiot.”

 

She raised her eyebrow. “Really? You have had me fooled all this time.”

 

Arthur gave her an annoyed, impatient look. “I would think, out of anyone in Camelot, he would confide in you.”

 

Morgana just stared at him. “What exactly are you talking about, Arthur? You forget, there’s Gaius. Certainly, nothing would get passed him concerning Merlin. And there’s Gwen as well.”

 

Arthur rubbed his forehead, trying to keep away his frustration. “Morgana, I realize your dreams aren’t just dreams.” He said, looking her in the eye.

 

“How did you manage to find the time to figure this out?” She said, sarcasm evident. “Clearly, you have too much time on your hands.”

 

Morgana smirked at him.

 

“Morgana!” Arthur said loudly, the frustration coming in at full force.

 

She didn’t answer him, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, on the verge of becoming a mischievous grin.

 

“The Questing Beast incident, for one. You came rushing down the castle entrance stairs with a warning – you told me I shouldn’t go. You were terrified. And,” He waved his hand as if to explain his point. “You were not wrong. Something bad did happen. For as long as I’ve known you, Morgana, you’ve been plagued with these dreams…”

 

Morgana shrugged in response. Her elbow was on the chair’s arm, her hand cradling her cheek. She had a neutral look on her face, politely listening to Arthur’s words, but not reacting to them.

 

Arthur sighed and he asked, “So, do you understand what I’m asking you regarding Merlin?”

 

Morgana shook her head. “No,” she said simply.

 

“What?” He said in disbelief. “Morgana, please. Do I have to come out and say it?”

 

“No, you do not,” she told him curtly. She gave him a hard look. “Do you think so little of me? I don’t know what your intentions are – yes, I know what you’re going to say, Arthur,” Morgana held up her hand to cut him off from interjecting. “But Merlin’s my friend and I will not say a word. Do you understand me? Not a word.” She finished, her voice raised on her last words.

 

“Merlin is my friend too,” Arthur protested.

 

Morgana sighed. “Remember, this is still Camelot where the law is unbendable thanks to your father. You may think it’s all well and good to know, but when you wonder why Merlin hasn’t told you yet –”

 

“I would never --” He started, desperate to get her to understand.

 

And yet, Morgana did have a point… and Arthur should have expected that. Merlin would never even think to trust him in that way -- no matter how much it hurt Arthur to know this. It would have been a foolish thing to do with his father still King and his law was final, unchallenged.

 

“We’re finished here.” She said firmly.

 

Morgana stood up to leave.

 

But then she turned to look back at him when she was a hair’s breadth away from the door.

 

Arthur saw the look of pity gracing her face. She was feeling sorry for him. Arthur hated having that look directed at him. He was not some helpless child.

 

She spoke softly – so unlike her usual firm, argumentative tone. “Just don’t – don’t drive him mad, all right? Merlin told me about what you were doing.”

 

Arthur gave her a curt nod. “Good bye, Morgana.”

 

“Good bye,” she said.

 

She left Arthur’s room. Arthur suddenly felt tired, thoughts worrying his mind. He had to see Merlin. Arthur was certain that Merlin was up to something. Arthur had to find out why Merlin had looked so distracted earlier. He couldn’t let it go.

 

With that thought, he left his room to seek out his manservant.

 

~ * ~  

“Merlin! Merlin! Hey, Merlin!”

 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! I’m sorry,” Gwen said in a rush. She tugged Merlin’s arm to lead him away as a fellow servant approached them.

 

Merlin just shook his head. “It’s all right,” he told Gwen.

 

Then he faced the one who had spoken to him. His name was Robin, Sir Pelleas’ manservant. Robin had a reputation for drinking all the other servants under the table. Merlin knew this very well. After last night –

 

Oh, no.

 

Gwen bit her lip. “I should have told you sooner!” She said earnestly, covering her face in her hands.

 

“What’s it then, Robin?”

 

“Oh ho! Great party last night, wasn’t it?”

 

Merlin cringed. He remembered – he had visited the Great Dragon before heading off to the servants’ quarters. One of the servants had stolen away a good amount of alcohol and an impromptu party had taken place. Initially, Merlin hadn’t planned on going to it – he knew he didn’t have a head for alcohol and always avoided these gatherings – but the visit with the Dragon had not gone well at all.

 

The Dragon had assigned him a task that Merlin had to carry out in no uncertain terms. Merlin was annoyed that he had to do this in the first place. But it was too important to neglect.

 

And then coupled with Arthur’s puzzling yet increasingly frustrating actions toward him, Merlin decided it was as good time as any to drown his troubles if only for one night. Also, he had successfully persuaded Gwen to come, so all in all, it hadn’t been a bad night.

 

Well, except for Merlin not having a head for alcohol whatsoever.

 

Looking at Robin’s big grin, Merlin feared he just might have said or done something he would come to regret very soon.

 

“Yeah, it was,” Merlin said, feeling uneasy.

 

“Don’t look like that! You’re a hero!” Robin enthused. He clapped his arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “But listen, really – is it true? Come on, I want to know.”

 

Merlin could just see Gwen on his other side. She gave him a small smile and there was an apologetic look in her eyes.

 

“I don’t recall… is what true?”

 

Robin looked at him, the grin still intact. “Clot. Pole.”

 

“Oh dear,” Gwen murmured.

 

“Uh…” Merlin said. He wasn’t sure how this worked. To deny and save face or admit and be lauded “a hero” as Robin had called him.

 

Robin laughed. “All right. If you don’t want to admit it, but the way you talked about it last night! Oh boy! Only you would get away with that alive! With the Prince, no less!”

 

Merlin nodded. “I didn’t mean to, you know--” He started weakly.

 

“Oh, don’t be shy! Don’t worry about the other servants telling on you… I set them straight for you.” Robin said solemnly, messing about with Merlin’s hair. “Honestly, I’m not sure if most even believed it or were probably too smashed themselves to remember your speech!”

 

“My…speech…?” Merlin uttered, now feeling downright horrified.

 

He had made a speech?

 

“Yeah – got up on a table and everything!”

 

“I’m sorry, Robin. But Merlin really needs to go…” Gwen interrupted quickly before Robin was tempted to recite the speech.

 

Feeling dazed, Merlin allowed Gwen to pull him away from Robin, who gave him a thumbs up before walking off in the other direction.

 

Merlin looked to Gwen. “Do you remember what I said in ‘my speech’, Gwen?”

 

Gwen couldn’t resist a giggle. “Trust me, Merlin, the clotpole part of it is all you need to know.”

 

Merlin decided to let the matter go, despite wishing he could remember what he had said.

 

He asked Gwen if she could collect some medicinal herbs for Gaius citing he had an urgent matter to attend to. As he had hoped, Gwen acquiesced with a smile and a reminder that he owed her a favour now.

 

~ * ~

 

The euphoria was fading. Merlin could scarcely believe he had managed to magically transport himself from one place to another. To vanish just like that and appear somewhere else – it was a heady experience. He felt his magic humming under his skin; it too was pleased at what had been accomplished.

 

But now, Merlin stood before the lake. He knew what he had to do. The Dragon had told him that Excalibur was taken by a young water sprite who refused to relinquish it. No matter that the sword needed to be returned to Arthur in time of need. According to the Dragon, the sprite wished to keep it forever.

 

Aside wondering why the water sprite was so attached to the sword in the first place, Merlin knew that he could not let this go without intervening.

 

So he recited the spell to summon the water sprite in question.

 

The young sprite came out of the lake. Her bare feet glided across the water and her light blue dress covered her form, ending in a pool around her feet.

 

“Why have you called for me?” She asked in high, clear voice. She looked at him curiously.

 

“You have something that isn’t yours. The sword--”

 

She smiled at him. “Is this it?” She asked him as the sword suddenly appeared in her hands.

 

“Yes, that is Excalibur. I’ve been told you plan on keeping it forever. I can’t let that happen. It isn’t yours to keep!”

 

“But…it’s such a pretty sword. You threw it in the lake. I picked it up first! It is mine! Mine! I won’t give it back!” She cried.

 

She was about to dive back into the water, sword still in hand, before Merlin reacted on impulse.

 

“No, I’m not done with you yet!” He yelled and put his hand out.

 

Merlin called upon his magic and willed her to stay where she was.

 

The water sprite glared at him. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” She continued to protest.

 

“I’m sorry you think the sword is yours, but it isn’t. You have to accept that!” Merlin said fiercely.

 

She trembled and her form wavered. For the first time Merlin noticed how young she was – she was just a child. Maybe she truly didn’t know any better… She had found the sword and claimed it as hers deciding it had been thrown away, abandoned.

 

“All right--” Merlin said, trying to be more patient with her. “Is there anything you want? Anything I could offer you in exchange for the sword?”

 

The water sprite looked to be pondering his words. Then she asked, “You are Emrys, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes,” he admitted uneasily. “A druid boy called me by that name.”

 

Excalibur disappeared from her hold as the sprite clapped her hands, her expression suddenly cheerful. “I will strike a deal with you, Emrys. And the sword will be at your disposal when you ask for it.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “The sword is not for me.”

 

“It is no matter. The sword will know – I will make certain that it falls into good hands.”

 

He gave her a sharp look. “You’re still planning on keeping it?”

 

She nodded. “Until it is requested. And if you agree to what I ask of you. Would you like to hear it?”

 

Merlin sighed, hoping that her request was reasonable…

 

~ * ~

 

Arthur did not have an easy time of it trying to find Merlin. For one, after asking around the castle, he had been told again and again that his manservant was not in the castle and furthermore, he hadn’t even been seen leaving the castle at all.

 

Only Gwen had told him something of use – Merlin had said that he had an urgent matter to attend to. So, in the end, Arthur headed to Gaius’ quarters to see if Merlin had told him about this “urgent matter.”

 

With some wheedling because the court physician proved more unhelpful than anything else, Arthur finally found out. Merlin had gone to the lake to take care of some matter – what exactly, Gaius was silent on that. Arthur had reassured Gaius that he knew about Merlin’s magic, thank you very much, so he needn’t worry about Arthur seeing anything he wasn’t expecting.

 

Gaius had only looked at him, appearing as if he still didn’t quite believe Arthur. He didn’t say a word to confirm Arthur’s knowledge of Merlin’s magic, nor did he dispute it.

 

Arthur left in a huff of frustration. He should have figured as much – Merlin didn’t know that Arthur knew and the only way Gaius would believe Arthur was if Merlin had reassured him that there was nothing to be concerned about. When he really thought about it, Arthur understood it perfectly – Gaius was at risk for harboring a sorcerer in Camelot and he had to be careful with his words.

 

Still, Arthur hated how both Morgana and Gaius were treating him like he couldn’t be trusted with Merlin’s secret. Like he would do as his father did and have Merlin executed.

 

It was rather irritating, to say the least.

 

 

~ * ~

 

Arthur stared in shock as he saw Merlin -- who was standing before the lake -- taking a sword, the sharp point facing him, and then stabbing himself.

 

“Merlin!” Arthur called, feeling understandably alarmed.

 

He moved forward.

 

Merlin turned his head quickly to look directly at Arthur. He opened his mouth about to say something, but then he fell to his knees.

 

“Oh, oh, oh! You’ll be all right,” Arthur heard a high, somewhat musical voice say in a hurry.

 

The offending sword, still piercing Merlin’s gut, suddenly vanished leaving the blood to flow more freely.

 

Arthur finally noticed the presence of a girl, on the cusp of womanhood possibly, gliding back and forth fretfully across the lake. She was the one who had spoken.

 

“Who are you?” Arthur questioned, annoyance clear in his voice.

 

Merlin grabbed Arthur’s arm and he shook his head. “It’s fine, Arthur. I did this willingly.”

 

Arthur stared at him. How the hell could Merlin be that much of an idiot? “You’re telling me that you stabbed yourself with a sword of your own free will? You could die!”

 

“I won’t die,” Merlin told him so firmly that Arthur couldn’t help but believe him.

 

Then Merlin’s hold on him loosened as his manservant fell to the ground.

 

“He’ll be all right!” The girl, whoever – whatever she was, reassured Arthur in earnest.

 

And then the girl dived headfirst back into the lake, gone for good.

 

Not knowing what else to do, Arthur went over to Merlin, who was lying on his back and breathing slow, shallow breaths.

 

Arthur sunk to the ground and gently shifted Merlin’s head so that it rested in his lap.

 

“Merlin, what have you done?” He said, exasperated.

 

But Merlin’s eyes were closed and he appeared, for all intents and purposes, to have fallen asleep.

 

So Arthur did the only thing he could do – he moved up Merlin’s shirt so that he could better see the injury and using Merlin’s red neckerchief, he pressed it down on the wound. He could not help but notice how there wasn’t more blood coming from the wound. The blood flow appeared to be receding, actually…

 

~ * ~

 

A few minutes later, Arthur was startled to discover that the wound had closed as if by its own accord. The only blood left was what stained the neckerchief and Merlin’s tunic. And Merlin’s pulse was beginning to beat more strongly.

 

Merlin rubbed his eyes as he woke up, looking up to find Arthur staring down at him.

 

“Arthur,” Merlin breathed out.

 

“What did you do? You shouldn’t be healing on your own like this.” Arthur pointed out, sounding puzzled.

 

Merlin didn’t answer him. Instead, he shifted his position and sat up, moving away from Arthur. He seemed to fold in on himself as he drew his legs up so his chin rested on top of his knees and his arms were wrapped around his legs.

 

“Merlin?” Arthur spoke when the silence held.

 

Arthur stood up and went over to him. “Hey, look at me.”

 

Merlin reluctantly peered up at him. Now Arthur wanted more than anything to know what had happened to Merlin. Why he had stabbed himself with that sword.

 

Because something was causing that broken, lost look crossing his features, which he allowed Arthur a glimpse of before he looked away.

 

“Tell me what happened to you. Please,” Arthur said, not bothering to keep the pleading tone out of his voice.

 

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

 

And Merlin really did look sorry.

 

“You should go,” Merlin suggested. “I’ll be fine on my own.” Merlin said, sounding rather miserable.

 

“Merlin--”

 

“Please. I just need some time to think. I’ll head back before it gets dark,” He said stubbornly.

 

“No, I won’t leave you. I need to say this,” Arthur said in a tone that brooked no argument. He sat down beside his manservant.

 

Merlin looked at him oddly. “What do you need to say?”

 

“I know about you. About your magic.”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened. “How – how ---but then the tripping and the--” A dawning realization hit his face. “You great, big prat! You were trying to find me out, weren’t you?”

 

Arthur nodded, smirking at him. He was inwardly pleased that Merlin wasn’t looking so dejected anymore. Now he just looked annoyed and righteously indignant.

 

Now that Arthur could deal with.

 

“How long have you known?” Merlin demanded.

 

“I’ve had my suspicions since that business with Valiant – I saw you reaching your arm out and saying what sounded like a spell. And lo and behold, the snakes came out of Valiant’s shield against Valiant’s wishes. From then on, I just sort of – watched out for it to make certain my suspicions were not erroneous. And announcing you were a sorcerer to spare Guinevere – honestly, what were you thinking?”

 

Merlin grinned at him in his usual cheerful way. “I expect you’ll have me executed then?” He said, though he already knew the answer. If Arthur had kept this to himself all this time, it would make no sense for Arthur to punish him now when he could have done so months ago.

 

Arthur snorted and he cuffed Merlin around the head. “Don’t be ridiculous,” He told him. “I’ve known for quite some time and I haven’t done a thing. What makes you think I’ll change my mind now? And I think I’ve gotten used to your insolent ways. I’m stuck with you and that’s that,” Arthur said fiercely, and Merlin could hear the sincerity clearly in his voice. It was genuine. “I must say it was foolhardy of you to blast the cell door like that – you know how suspicious that would have appeared to others?”

 

“Camelot was under attack, Arthur! Forgive me if I was in a bit of a rush!” Merlin protested.

 

Arthur just shook his head. “So, how about you show me some magic? I’d like to see it now that we’re on the same page regarding the matter.”

 

Merlin grinned at him. “All right.”

 

So with a few choice words, Merlin conjured a fire that wavered in midair before forming into shapes.

 

A moment later, Arthur saw what looked like a helmeted knight sitting atop his horse, a lance held in his hand. The knight bucked the horse forward as he charged with his lance. Arthur could even hear the sound of the horse’s galloping as the knight urged it to go faster.

 

Then the knight and his horse disappeared, the spell over.

 

“Who was that knight?”

 

“Lancelot,” Merlin answered smartly.

 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’re a bad liar, Merlin. I know it.”

 

“I wasn’t lying!” Merlin tried to dispute him, but it was to no avail.

 

“All right, all right. I’ll let you off this once,” Arthur said, ruffling Merlin’s hair and making a right mess of it. He then admitted, “Lancelot did prove himself more than worthy of the honour of knighthood. But, I’m still the best knight in the realm.”

 

Merlin just nodded, though he smiled indulgently at him. As if Arthur were a child about to throw a fit if someone dared to disagree with him.

 

“Okay, enough of this. Come on,” Arthur said, pulling Merlin along with him.

 

“Where are we going?” Merlin asked, confused.

 

“We’re going into the water. For a swim.”

 

“What – why?”

 

“Because I want to. I always feel better after being in the water for a bit. I think you could only benefit from it.”

 

Merlin shrugged. “Okay. I suppose you’re right.”

 

They shed their clothing -- tunics, trousers, jackets discarded by a nearby tree. Merlin cast a quick spell to prevent anyone taking their clothes – one could never be too careful. Arthur watched him – still not quite used to seeing Merlin’s eyes glow golden like that. It was not natural, but all the same, it was beautiful, intoxicating…

 

~ * ~

 

“Arthur?”

 

“Yes?” He turned to look at Merlin who was floating on his back, a finger idly dancing back and forth across the rippling water.

 

“You’re not a clotpole.” He said simply, to the point.

 

Arthur just laughed in response.

 

“Arthur--what are you--?” Merlin wondered when he saw Arthur go under the water.

 

Then his now brownish blonde hair appeared and Arthur was right beside Merlin.

 

Merlin looked at him, a question in his eyes.

 

And then without so much as a warning, Arthur’s lips descended upon his and he kissed him.

 

Suddenly Merlin’s troubles seemed so far away – what his future held for him was terribly distant, somehow inconsequential when the present seemed to carry so much promise.

 

They didn’t matter in the here and now when Arthur was so close, still with him.

 

And Arthur knew. He finally knew about his magic.

 

Yes, Arthur was most definitely not a clotpole.

 

He was still a prat though.

 

But he was **his** prat.

 

~ * ~


End file.
